


Palindrome

by Nightmarish



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Accomplice Chewbacca, Borderline crack, Dreamsharing, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Inappropriate Use of the Force, Kylo Ren Being a Little Shit, Luke being difficult, Rey can't stay out of Kylo's head, Rey has just about had it with these assholes, Semi-accidental kidnapping, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-17 20:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5884864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightmarish/pseuds/Nightmarish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rey absolutely plans to tell someone that Kylo Ren is camping out in the back of her head – really, she does. It’s just…kind of nice, having someone else’s thoughts to sink into when she’s feeling lonely.</p><p>A response to Tragically Humorous’ prompt:<br/>Everyone keeps doing the force bond plot with Kylo and Rey where an obsessed Kylo uses the bond to annoy/toy with Rey. I’d like to see the reverse where Rey is the one obsessed with Kylo and he is resistant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I promised Tragically Humorous a drabble and ended up writing close to 4,000 words of a multi-chapter fic. Yikes. Not entirely sure where this is going, but it's going somewhere...
> 
> Don't let this semi-serious opening fool you - I foresee this dissolving into, at the very least, borderline crack. There may also be time jumps. Rating will likely go up.

After the high comes the crash.

Rey sleeps for approximately 1.25 days following the destruction of Starkiller Base.

After collapsing into the nearest unclaimed bunk,

After the medical droid gives her the _“It’s not optional, Rey”_ once-over,

After refusing to leave Finn’s side until she’s forcibly evicted from the surgery,

After crying into General Organa’s vest like a child,

After piloting the _Millennium Falcon_ from a dead man’s chair,

After the frozen forest splits into a gaping maw beneath her feet,

After nearly killing Kylo Ren,

Rey wakes up.

She’s _starving_.

It’s the first cognizant thought she has, but Rey’s used to the feeling of hunger clawing at her gut. While it’s not exactly comfortable, she’s able to push it to the back of her mind for long enough to chug down the bottle of water that someone had thoughtfully left on the chair beside her bunk. Along with the water, there’s a neatly folded pile of plain, utilitarian garments. She starts to pull them on automatically, but she stops when she gets a whiff of herself. She grimaces. She’s _filthy_ , and to put it politely, she smells like something rotting that’s been left out in the sun for several days.

Not surprising, given the places she’s been crawling around in lately. And no offense to anyone, but the _Falcon_ is far from most sanitary location on that list.

She sets the clean clothes aside with regret and retrieves her dirty garments from where she’d left them in a heap on the floor before collapsing into bed. They’re stiff with sweat and blood and stars know what else, but she’s not going to ruin the new ones until she’s cleaned herself up a bit. Food is going to have to wait.

Rey only has the vaguest sense of where anything is located in the Resistance base, but she manages to find a ‘fresher a few doors down from her borrowed quarters. She washes efficiently; the novelty of a sonic shower instead of a pail of water or dry sand is something she can’t bring herself to fully enjoy until she’s gotten something into her belly. She finishes quickly and dresses. The clothes are a little big, but they’re clean and of better make than anything she’s owned in a long time. She shakes out her hair and detangles it as best she can with her fingers before re-sectioning it and twisting it up at the back of her head with deft, practiced motions. She spares half a second to check her appearance in the mirror before setting off in search of something to eat.

Still unsure of where she’s going, Rey finds her feet retracing her steps back to the medbay. She wavers at the entrance. Her stomach growls painfully, but she presses her palm beneath her ribs and tells it to be quiet.

“You’ve gone a lot longer than this without eating,” she mutters to herself out loud, the old habit of a lonely life with no one else to talk to. “Finn first.”

Mind made up, Rey pushes through the doors into the sterile medical wing. It’s busy, although there are less people and droids rushing about than before. No one stops her as she makes her way to where Finn rests, so she stands stock still by his bedside for a full twenty minutes before anyone notices her presence, just watching his chest rise and fall with each breath. She doesn’t like seeing him like this. Finn has been all jittery energy since the moment he crashed into her life. Seeing him so still is…wrong.

“Rey?”

Rey’s head snaps up. A dark-haired man stands in the doorway. _He’s got a good face_ , she thinks. Kind. Sincere. He steps forward, hand outstretched.

“You’re Rey, right? I’m Poe. Poe Dameron.”

Rey recognizes him. This is the man who helped Finn escape Starkiller Base – for the first time. “You’re the X-wing pilot.” She shakes his hand awkwardly, unused to the custom.

“Well, I’m not the _only_ X-wing pilot,” Poe says with a laugh, releasing her. “I hear you’re quite the pilot yourself!”

Rey frowns, unable to think where he might have heard that from. Something of her thoughts must show on her face, because he shrugs sheepishly and explains, “Word gets around quickly here.”

A series of excited chirps draw Rey’s attention downwards. “Beebee-Ate!”

The little droid pushes past Poe’s legs and rolls around Rey in a tight circle, whirring and beeping with enthusiasm.

“And this little guy is responsible for a fair share of the gossip,” Poe says fondly. “Buddy, remember how we agreed that you’d wait for me outside?”

BB-8 chirps and bumps against Rey’s calf.

“Yes, I know you like Rey, but you need to stay very quiet, okay? People are resting here.”

A soft, inquisitive trill.

“Yes, like our friend, Finn.”

Rey drops down into a crouch and rubs a hand affectionately over BB-8’s dome. His antenna is crooked again. She straightens it absently. “He’s going to be fine,” she tells the droid seriously. “They’re keeping him asleep for a little while so he can heal properly.” She rises back to her full height and catches Poe looking at her with a funny, half-grin. “What?” she demands self-consciously.

“Nothing,” Poe says, shaking his head. “You treat droids well, that’s all.”

Rey blinks at him, unsure of what he’s getting at. She opens her mouth to ask outright, but she’s interrupted by an embarrassingly loud rumble from her stomach.

Poe grins outright at that. “Come on,” he tells her, nodding to the door. “Intrepid heroes must be fed. The cafeteria’s probably serving dinner by now.”

With one last glance over her shoulder at Finn’s sleeping form, Rey follows Poe out of the medbay and through the twisting corridors of the Resistance base. She splits her attention between BB-8’s continual chatter and committing landmarks to memory. Rey is a good navigator, but her survival instinct is second nature. _Always know an escape route_.

“Beebee-Ate’s been clingy since you guys brought him back,” Poe remarks after the third time the little droid doubles back to circle them before rolling ahead again. Rey feels like they’re being herded. “He’s been asking about you nonstop.”

Rey is strangely touched. Then, something Poe said earlier catches up to her and she stops in the middle of the corridor. “Dinner?” she asks, disbelieving. “How long was I asleep? What day is it?”

“Eh, a little less than a week?”

“A _week_!” Rey exclaims, shocked. “How could I – I don’t… ” She catches sight of his expression and narrows her eyes. “Tell me the truth, Poe Dameron!”

“No, really – no one could wake you up, it was the strangest thing!” Poe insists, but he’s having a hard time keeping a straight face, and Rey feels her own lips twitching with the effort not to smile at his ridiculous fib. She’s never met anyone quite like Poe before. She wonders if –

Out of nowhere, something slams into her chest and knocks the breath clean out of her. She gasps soundlessly, crumpling in on herself, clutching at her ribs.

“Rey? Rey!” Poe crouches in front of her, one hand on her shoulder. “Hey, I was just kidding about it being a week, no need to go into dramatics!”

Rey sucks in a breath, pushing his hand away from where he’s feeling the temperature of her forehead. “I’m okay.” She struggles back to her feet and looks around for whatever hit her.

“ _Oomph_ , careful,” Poe grunts when she stumbles and falls against him. His grip on her arm tightens like he’s worried she’s about to topple over. She might, actually. Rey breathes in and out a few more times, trying to calm her racing heartbeat.

Poe is still talking in her ear. “Okay, don’t rush it. What happened? Are you injured?”

“No,” Rey says. “I think something – ” She scans the hallway over Poe’s shoulder, but it’s empty. Tenderly, she feels her ribs, but the blunt pain is already fading. She feels fine, if a little dizzy. “I’m okay,” she repeats.

“I think we should go back to the medbay,” Poe says anxiously.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Rey enunciates clearly. She gives him what she hopes is a reassuring smile. He doesn’t look entirely convinced. “I’m just hungry – must have been a dizzy spell.”

She doesn’t give him time to argue, just sets off again in the direction they’d been walking. The cafeteria is at the end of the hall. It’s crowded: a mess of bright colors and raucous voices. Rey almost shrinks back again in alarm – after the quiet of the hallway, it _is_ alarming – but Poe is right there behind her and he guides her forward with a light touch to her elbow.

“Everyone’s still a little wired,” he explains apologetically. “Some of these guys probably haven’t even slept yet. Come on, food’s this way.”

He shows her where to get a tray and they load up their plates. Rey is suddenly uncertain again. There doesn’t seem to be a limit on how much food she can take, and she doesn’t know how to proceed. How much has she earned? She bites her lip, considering.

Poe solves her dilemma by handing her the plate he’s just filled and grabs another one for himself. Then he leads her over to a couple of empty seats at one of the long tables and motions for her to dig in. Rey doesn’t need to be told twice. She starts shoveling the food into her mouth with gusto, and only half-listens to the conversation around her. It’s clear that Poe Dameron is a popular guy: practically everyone who passes their table stops to say hello, or clap him on the back, or ask who the new girl is. A couple of other pilots wander over to join their table, and Rey surfaces for long enough to be introduced around.

“Damn, woman, when was the last time you ate?” the woman across from Rey – a pilot named Jessika Pava – asks, impressed.

Rey considers. “I ate some fruit on Takodana. Before the First Order came.”

“Try this,” the man to Rey’s left – “Snap” Wexley, although she suspects that isn’t his real name – suggests, pushing a sticky-looking pastry on a small plate into her field of vision. “Chef really went all out today. The whole base is celebrating.”

Rey picks up the dessert and licks it cautiously. It’s very sweet. She takes a huge bite and chews happily, giving Snap a thumbs up with sticky fingers.

“We’re breaking out the Corellian whiskey tonight, Dameron,” Jessika remembers. “You in?”

“Do you even need to ask?”

“Did I hear someone say ‘Corellian whiskey’?”

They all look up to see General Organa standing above them, tray in hand. She inclines her head in askance towards the empty seat beside Jessika. The pilot obligingly scoots over, and she joins them.

“You drink, General?”

General Organa’s mouth turns up in a sly smile. “I’ve been known to imbibe on occasion. And I might just happen to have a dusty bottle or two to contribute to the cause. After the debrief, of course.” She winks and then turns her attention to Rey. “How are you holding up?” she asks kindly. “I sent a droid to check on you this morning when you didn’t turn up for breakfast, but it seemed best to let you sleep it off.” She leans in conspiratorially, gesturing with her fork to the group at large. “What the adventure stories never tell you is that being a hero is _exhausting_.”

Rey swallows the last of her pastry with difficulty. “I’m not a hero,” she says, feeling her face flush.

Protests erupt from all sides.

“That’s not true!” Poe says vehemently. “You and Finn got Beebee-Ate back to the Resistance. You completed my mission.” He pauses, a gleam entering his eyes. “They told me about that crazy stunt you pulled with the _Falcon_ on Jakku. Wish I’d been there to see flying like that.”

“But I got captured,” Rey points out.

“So did Dameron,” Jessika shoots back. “Sorry, Poe.”

“No, you make a fair point,” Poe agrees. “I totally got my ass handed to me.”

“Rey, take it from me,” General Organa puts in, “getting captured is all in a day’s work for _rebel scum_ like us. It’s escaping again that counts.”

“And you got the shields down,” Snap adds. “If you hadn’t done that, even our Ace Shooter here wouldn’t have been able to get a shot in.”

“That wasn’t really me,” Rey insists. “I just got the doors open. Chewie and H-Han – ” Rey stumbles a little over Han’s name. She looks at the General, but the older woman just looks back at her calmly. “ – _they_ set the detonators. And I wouldn’t have escaped at all if Chewie hadn’t brought the _Falcon_ around. _And_ I nearly got Finn killed!”

_And Han_ did _get killed,_ she thinks, but doesn’t say out loud.

“Excessive modesty is almost as unattractive as arrogance,” General Organa tells her when she’s finished. “The last person I met who gave me this much trouble over being called a ‘hero’ was my husband, and in the 35 years I knew Han, he never won that argument. So save yourself the trouble and bow to it gracefully now.”

Rey takes a deep breath. She’s not a hero, she _knows_ that, but she doesn’t want to argue with her new friends. “Thank you for the clothes,” she says instead. “I’m not sure my old ones can be saved.”

“It’s the least we can do,” Organa says dismissively. “You’re a part of the Resistance now, Rey, should you choose to stay. We take care of our own.” She reaches across the table and lays her hand briefly over Rey’s. “I’m afraid flashy awards ceremonies are something of an Alliance relic – ”

“Thank the stars,” Poe mutters.

“ – but if we had the time and means, I would award all of you medals for valor in the face of great adversity, _excellent_ flying on all fronts, and a profound display of loyalty to your friends and the Republic, which often comes at great cost. _Thank you_.”

She releases Rey’s hand and stands, collecting her tray. “Don’t forget –” she says, her tone sharper. “Debrief at nineteen-hundred hours. Spread the word.”

“ _Well_.” Snap looks around the table after the general moves away. “That was…unexpected.”

“She likes you,” Jessika says to Rey, impressed. “Maybe even more than she likes Poe.”

“Hey!”

“She didn’t hold _your_ hand.”

“I wasn’t the one she was trying to comfort!”

“Excuse me, I don’t need _comforting,_ ” Rey says, affronted.

“Forget it, Dameron, you’re not her favorite anymore.”

“Oh, shut up, all of you.” Poe turns to Rey. “You finished? I can show you around the base before the big debrief. Unless – maybe you should go to the infirmary, now? Are you still dizzy?”

“Uh, no,” Rey says, and it’s not a lie. She’d completely forgotten about the incident in the corridor. She feels completely fine. Better than fine, actually – she’s got a full belly, which is a rare enough occurrence in her life to warrant a mention. “I think it really was just from lack of food.”

She’s passed out from hunger or thirst before, and from the heat, and from exhaustion. It’s not surprising she felt weak after waking up. Difficulty breathing is a common sign of a panic attack, too. She’s been running on pure adrenaline for too long. Adrenaline and…the Force?

Rey pushes _that_ line of thought from her mind. It’s not the time to get introspective about the possibility that she has control over some mystical power that most of the galaxy doesn’t even believe in anymore.

“A tour would be great,” she tells Poe, standing up. “Lead the way.”

+

They never make it to the official debrief. The General’s golden protocol droid goes into a flurry of hysterics that eventually sort themselves out into a message: R2D2, Luke Skywalker’s faithful astromech, has come online after years of subsisting in low power mode. More importantly: within the droid’s backup memory is a map. A map with a piece missing. A very familiar piece.

Rey stares up at the completed projection with no small amount of awe. The excitement in the room is practically tangible, but for Rey it comes with a healthy sense of trepidation. The wheels are turning. Things long dormant are coming awake in the galaxy. She suppresses a shiver of anticipation as she traces the glowing map to the last Jedi with her eyes.

After that, the proceedings dissolve entirely into one big party. To Rey, it seems as if every able body on base joins together to celebrate their victory and salute their dead. She is, at once; ecstatically hopeful, incredibly overwhelmed, devastated, and anxious for what is to come.

Is she ready for this? What _is_ this? After years of tedious waiting on Jakku, her life is suddenly surging forward at an alarming pace. Everything she knows is changing before her very eyes.

“No brooding allowed,” Jessika says firmly, pouring her a generous mug-full of the promised whiskey. “Drink up.”

Rey eyes is curiously. She’s never had whiskey before. She takes a large swallow, and nearly chokes when it hits her throat with a fire she doesn't expect. Jessika laughs, and whacks her on the back.

“Careful, this stuff’ll knock you flat if you aren’t careful!” Jessika drains her own cup and refills it. “It’ll be nice, having another woman who can fly. There aren’t enough of us, if you ask me. Misogynistic Imperials.” She snorts derisively. “It takes a long time to eradicate bigotry,” she tells Rey with a wry smile. “General Organa doesn’t hold for it, of course.”

“Is that why you joined the Resistance?” Rey asks curiously, taking another, smaller sip of her drink. It’s not so bad in small quantities, she decides. She might even grow to like it.

To her surprise, Jessika blushes. “No, that, uh, wasn’t the reason. I mean, it was part of the reason. I believed in what she was saying, that the First Order’s a major threat, but what got me interested in combat flying in the first place was her brother, Luke.”

“You’ve met him?” Rey asks, surprised.

“No, he disappeared long before I joined up. But he’s _legendary_. The greatest starpilot in the galaxy.” Jessica shrugs. “I’ve never been good at staying on the ground, and flying for the Resistance was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.”

“You’ve never regretted it?”

Jessica pauses. “Sometimes,” she admits slowly. “There are times…it’s hard, when you lose people you care about. But that’s war. I’d never be able to live with myself if I just sat by and watched from the sidelines. When I die, I won’t go passively, on my knees. I’ll go out fighting until my last breath.” She grins suddenly, and slings an arm around Rey’s shoulders. She puts a little too much force into it and they both sway on their feet. “On second thought, most of us joined the Resistance because we’re completely crazy, idealistic adrenaline junkies.”

“You’re not completely crazy,” Rey assures her, planting her feet to steady them.

“Not-completely-crazy,” Jessika repeats. She raises her glass and clinks it against Rey’s. “I’ll drink to that!”

+

It’s late by the time the party breaks up, but Rey’s too wired to sleep. She retreats to her small bunk and tries to clear her mind. Now that she’s not passing out from exhaustion, though, the unfamiliar ambient sounds of the base are distracting her. Amongst…other things.

Rey shifts onto her side, and almost as though magnetized, her eyes find the glint of her lightsaber hilt in the dark.

_That_ thought makes her sit bolt upright in bed. It’s not _Rey’s_ lightsaber; it’s Luke’s. No matter what Maz implied, Rey is just keeping it safe until it can be returned to its proper owner. No matter that it _feels_ like it belongs to her, in a way nothing else in her life ever has before.

_That lightsaber belongs to me!_

Unbidden, the memory of the snowy forest on Starkiller fills Rey’s mind. She’d still been on the ground when Kylo Ren had challenged Finn for the weapon, but his indignant anger had cut through the haze of pain as she struggled to stay conscious. And stronger still was his absolute disbelief and the stabbing feeling of betrayal when the lightsaber flew past his outstretched hand and into Rey’s.

Rey swings her legs over the side of the mattress. She closes her eyes and reaches out her hand in the dark. She breathes in deeply, trying to access whatever power she’d been able to tap into before. She’'ll be lying if she claims she isn’t afraid, because this power _terrifies_ her, but the pressing flood of panic-rage-despair she’d felt in the forest is hushed now, a quiet trickle of anxiety and grief in the back of her mind.

Rey exhales slowly, eyes still closed, searching, reaching…

The cool hilt of the lightsaber smacks into the fleshy meat of her palm.

Rey’s eyes fly open, and she’s torn between elation and astonishment. Carefully, she holds the hilt upright in front of her and ignites the blade. It _zzzings_ to life and fills the room with an icy blue glow. But it’s more than just plasma and crystal; as Rey holds the lightsaber aloft, she feels the swirling currents of energy she’s come to realize are the Force. It’s everywhere, surrounding every living thing, and holding the ignited blade, Rey’s awareness of it is magnified. She lets out a gasping laugh. The feeling is incredible.

Excited, wide awake, and more than a little buzzed from the whiskey, Rey reaches out eagerly with her senses. She has no idea what she’s doing, but she plows forward with abandon, latching on to whatever she can grasp. The Force is electrifying, it’s glorious, it’s –

_Pain. Pain and anger. The palpable feeling of utter self-loathing. Loneliness and despair. Why didn’t it work? Where did I go wrong? Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong WRONG!_

Rey drops the lightsaber with a clatter and it sizzles out. She bites back a scream of anguish. Her heart pounds so fiercely in her chest that she thinks it might fall out. She slumps back, wide-eyed in the dark.

_What was_ that _?_

+


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey indulges in a little denial. General Organa asks for a favor.

After _that_ , sleep proves more elusive than ever.

Rey alternates between tossing and turning on the small bunk and lying flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling above. The bitter sting of failure clings to her in the dark. It’s a sharp kind of hurt, impossible to ignore, but underneath it is a hollow feeling in her chest that’s infinitely worse. Rey blinks back tears for a pain that isn’t entirely her own. The loneliness is _devastating_.

Rey’s been lonely for all that she can remember of her life, but this – this is something else. Magnified and reflected back at her, familiar and yet not. She knows she should be concerned, but she just feels sad and exhausted.

Finally, she gives up on the pretense of sleep entirely. The Resistance base is primarily underground so there aren’t any windows, but she thinks it must be close enough to morning to count. The longer she lies here, the more certain she becomes of where the bewildering emotions she’s suddenly drowning in are coming from. It’s a truth she’s not quite ready to admit.

She dresses quickly and pointedly ignores the scorch mark she accidentally gauged into the floor when she dropped the lightsaber. She’ll have to apologize for that later. After breakfast. She leaves the lightsaber where it fell.  
  
She feels a little better after she’s gotten some food in her belly, but she’s still not prepared to face the facts head on. She’s _definitely_ not ready to admit her suspicions to her new friends when they join her halfway through her second plate of food, all a little hungover but otherwise none the worse for wear. By the time they finish eating and part ways – the others off to attend to whatever duties they’ve been assigned, Rey to wander the halls aimlessly – she’s settled into a quasi-comfortable state of denial.

It lasts all of five minutes before she runs into General Organa.

“Good morning, Rey,” the General greets her warmly. She shows no signs of suffering any adverse reaction to the copious amounts of alcohol consumed the evening before. Rey figures that’s why she’s the General. “Would you join me in my office? I have a rather substantial favor to ask you.”

 

+

 

 _It’s a bit more than a favor_ , Rey thinks afterwards.

It’s also a huge honor, and Rey is overwhelmed by the trust this woman is putting in her – a nobody, a desert rat, Jakku trash. This is the sort of mission you entrust to your best and brightest, not the untrained girl you met two days ago. She tells the General as much, but the other woman just waves it away.

“I’m no Jedi, but even I listen to the Force on occasion,” Organa tells her dryly. “I don’t know what the future holds for you, Rey, but I _do_ know you have an important part to play. With your connection to the Force, you have a better chance of finding Luke than anyone else in the Resistance. I can’t leave, not now – we need to relocate soon, before the First Order finishes licking their wounds and comes sniffing around.”

And so Rey agrees to go. Of course she does, there’s really no other option. She’s in way too deep to back out now. She’s bled for these people, and they for her. There’s nothing left for her on Jakku but dust. She’ll take the map and seek out the last Jedi, and maybe she’ll find her own answers along the way.

There’s one thing she has to do first.

 

+

 

She curls her hand around Finn’s, twining her fingers with his immobile ones. She squeezes gently.

“There’s something else I have to tell you before I go,” she confesses. She’s already explained about Luke and the map. “You’re not going to like it.”

She pauses, considering what an enormous understatement that is. Finn is going to _hate_ this. She squeezes his hand tighter. This is more difficult to get out than she expected.

“I – I think I can see into people’s minds,” she says, hearing the strangeness of the words as she says them out loud for the first time. “I didn’t mean to, I swear I didn’t, but it’s happened twice now and I can _feel_ what they’re feeling, and oh, Finn, they’re so _angry_! I don’t think they know I can feel it which is probably a very good thing because…” She hesitates, licking her dry lips. She drops her voice to a near-silent whisper, and leans in to breathe her confession across his tranquil features. “…because I’m 90% sure it’s Kylo Ren.”

 

+

 

Space is beautiful.

Rey imagined it, as a child growing up planet side. She longingly watched distant ships touch down on the horizon and imagined the day her family would disembark from one of them. She used to stare up at the sky on clear nights and dream about being swept up into loving arms and carried away to the stars.

That dream is dashed, now. No one came to spirit her away, and no one ever will. Rey got herself off of Jakku, and now she’s done waiting. She looks out at the vastness of space from the cockpit of the _Millenium Falcon_ and feels like her future is rushing towards her.

They’ve entered Hyperspace and the ship is flying on autopilot, their haphazard course imputed into the navicomputer. There’s no direct route that will take them Ahch-To in a single jump, but if the map is accurate, they’ll arrive within two standard days. Chewbacca is off in another part of the ship tinkering with small repairs. They’d cleaned the _Falcon_ up as best they could before lift-off, but after years sitting in Unkar Plutt’s junkyard, the freighter needs a lot of love and attention to get it back up to the wookie’s impeccable standards. With the base preparing a full-scale relocation and the weight of their mission pressing down on them, there just hadn’t been time.

Rey sinks further into the captain’s chair and draws her knees up to her chest. She should take a nap, or find something to fix like Chewbacca is doing, or even _clean_ something (his impeccable standards regarding the functional aspects of the ship do not necessarily extend to its sanitation, from what Rey has seen) but she can’t quite pull herself away from the view. What’s worse: now that she has time to sit still and think, her mind feels uncomfortably crowded with the chaotic memory of shared emotions.

Rey sit upright, an idea popping suddenly into her head. She bites her lip. It’s a _terrible_ idea, but now that she’s thought it, she can’t _stop_ thinking about it. She half-rises in her seat and listens carefully for the distant clanking of Chewbacca’s tools. She takes a steadying breath.

“You can do this,” she tells herself firmly.

Resolutely pushing all of the reasons why she shouldn’t out of her head, Rey closes her eyes and reaches out for the Force. She finds it quickly; its omnipresence seems to grow exponentially more familiar to her each time she connects to it. She inspects it curiously, cautiously. It swirls around her like sand caught up in the desert wind and as she thinks it, the image forms in her mind. She’s standing in the desert, the sun hot on her shoulders. The wind tugs at her hair and clothes. Rey lets herself slip further into the vision, sifting through it until she finds what she’s looking for.

How she even knows what to look for is a mystery, but the moment Rey finds the sparkling thread amidst the eddying sands, she stops questioning it. It catches the sunlight in her mind like half-buried metal salvage. She brushes it off and examines it carefully. It’s jewel-bright, this thread she has discovered within herself, and it’s alive with the same power that surrounds her. She plucks at it, watching the small tremors ripple down the line. She feels the residual tugging in her chest, and before she can second guess what she’s about to do, Rey grasps the shining thread with both hands and _pulls_.

The thread flares to life with an intensity that takes her breath away as her consciousness spirals out across the galaxy and collides with another’s. She feels his surprise like it’s her own, and she probably could have gone about this more delicately, but it’s too late now because suddenly they are slip-sliding into one another, slotting into place like they were made that way.

In her mind, he unfurls tall and dark and burning against the sun-bright sand around her.

 _What is this?_ Kylo Ren says, the words reverberating with shock and confusion. His lips move like he’s speaking out loud, but Rey hears the words in her head rather than her ears. _What have you done?_

 _Nothing_ , Rey denies, drawing herself up straighter. Her fingers are still wrapped around the glowing connection that runs between them, and she doesn’t let it go. _I don’t know what is happening to us. Do you?_

Kylo Ren’s face goes through a rapid series of emotions, and she follows them all with disconcerting ease as the corresponding emotions bloom in her chest. _This is not my doing!_ he yells at her, settling finally on anger.

 _I know_ , Rey tells him, because she can feel the sincerity beneath the rage he wraps himself in like a shadow. There is no hiding here, in their shared mindspace. She knows he must be able to feel everything she is feeling, too, but she finds that she doesn’t care. She isn’t ashamed of who she is, even if she’s still figuring out who that is. _I don’t know how this happened, but we’re connected somehow; you can’t ignore that._

He stares down at her from his ridiculous height. _You rejected my offer to teach you_ , he says after a beat, and there’s an accusation there beyond the obvious, all raw edges and enflamed like the fresh burn scar that discolors his face. _There can be no connection between us. That’s not how the Force works. Which you would know if you had a proper master._

Rey narrows her eyes and gives the thread a sharp tug. The manifestation of Kylo Ren stumbles forward comically, clutching at his chest in spite of himself.

 _Nope_ , she agrees sarcastically. _You’re right, this is all just my imagination. Sorry to bother you. Go back to feeling sorry for yourself._

He’s glaring outright at her now, and crosses the space between them in two long-legged strides. He grabs her by the shoulders and Rey is so shocked by the sudden physical contact that she doesn’t pull back. The weight of his hands is strangely real.

 _You foolish girl!_ he snarls, shaking her bodily. _You know nothing of how dangerous the game you are playing is!_

Rey laughs in his face.

 _This isn’t a game, Ben Solo_ , she says. _You kidnapped me, and you killed your father in some misguided effort to erase your humanity, but you’re in my head and now I know your secret – that it didn’t work_.

It’s incredibly stupid, taunting him like this. She has no weapon, no training, no real understanding of what she’s doing. She doesn’t even know if they can hurt each other here, lightyears part in physical reality but tethered so closely together in their minds that they can feel the sensation of touch. She’s operating on base instinct, and right now her only clear objective is to get a reaction out of him.

 _It didn’t work_ , she repeats. _So what are you going to do now?_

His hands flex on her shoulders and for a second, Rey thinks he’s going to move them to choke her, but then something shutters across his face like a wall slamming down and he _pushes_.

Rey falls back into the sand, and when she blinks away the sunspots, Kylo Ren is gone, and she’s back in the cockpit of the _Millenium Falcon_ , alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kind notes and the shocking (!) amount of kudos. XOXO


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke is difficult. Rey is stubborn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took longer than intended, and I apologize - I actually wrote several pages and then realized I was getting ahead of myself. Good news is, that means I've already got a good part of Chapter 4 written!

 

“What do you mean, _no_?”

 

Rey stares at Luke Skywalker in dismay. She looks sideways at Chewbacca for solidarity and he emits an answering growl of incredulity.

 

Luke regards them both impassively. “I’m sorry,” he says. His voice is rough from disuse, but he speaks gently. “I know you want me to miraculously fix everything, but I can’t.” He spreads his hands – one metallic, one calloused flesh – wide, an imploring gesture. “I tried to bring balance to the Force and only succeeded in making things far worse.”

 

Rey’s only been on this island for an hour and a half, and things are already going catastrophically wrong. She has a mission and this isn’t how it’s supposed to go. She followed the map, she found the enigmatic Jedi Master – which is more than the rest of the galaxy can boast, _thank you very much_ – and she returned his father’s kriffing lightsaber, even though she’d really wanted to keep it for herself. He had taken it from her hands almost reverently. _Shouldn’t that mean he’s ready to come back?_

 

“You have _got_ to be kidding me!” Rey bursts out. She looks at Chewbacca again. “He’s joking, right? Please tell me he’s known for his sense of humor.”

 

Chewbacca shrugs and tilts his massive hand back and forth in a _so-so_ gesture that Rey translates to mean: _not really_.

 

Luke huffs a little into the collar of his cloak. “I can be funny,” he insists, at which Chewbacca chortles and R2D2 whistles an unflattering line of Binary that has Rey smiling a little in spite of her frustration. She’s still not sure how the old droid managed to follow them up the steeply winding slope, but BB-8 would have figured it out and R2D2 strikes Rey as equally resourceful, if not quite as sweetly tempered.

 

Luke eyes his old astromech with mild betrayal, but then relents. “I’m afraid this isn’t a joke, Rey. I can’t come with you.”

 

“Do you have any idea how long your sister has been searching for you?” Rey demands. “People _died_ trying to keep that map from falling into the hands of the First Order.”

 

Luke closes his eyes briefly, a pained expression crossing his features. “All the more reason to stay on the fringes,” he murmurs. “I’ve caused enough bloodshed already. If I were to return, I fear things would only get worse.”

 

“That’s a stupid reason,” Rey says belligerently. “Chewie, tell him he’s being an idiot.”

 

 _“This is the sort of childish behavior I came to expect from Han, not from you, my friend,”_ Chewbacca says in Shyriiwook.

 

“I am only one man!” Luke says. “The Resistance cannot pin all of their hopes on me.”

 

“Give it back,” Rey says abruptly.

 

The three of them look at her, confusion evident.

 

“The lightsaber,” she clarifies. She holds her hand out for it, palm up. “If you’re not going to use it, I will.”

 

Luke stares at her for a long moment before slowly reaching into his robes and extracting the lightsaber. He holds it out to her silently, mirroring her own actions of an hour before. Rey grits her teeth in frustration. Instead of just taking it, she performs her new favorite trick and calls the weapon to her hand using the Force. She’s getting better at this – she summons it with barely a thought. She clips it to her belt for the first time, and even though she’s only doing this to make a point, she can’t deny that it feels _right_ , having it there. (She’s also just the teensiest bit satisfied to see the surprise that flashes across Luke’s face at her unexpected display of control.)

 

She turns away from Luke.

 

“ _You_ talk some sense into him,” she tells Chewbacca. “I’m going to go climb something.”

 

+

 

The following days go something like this:

 

Luke remains stubbornly set against stepping foot off his island.

 

He refuses to train another Jedi.

 

He is grieved by the death of his friend, but he is not ready to face his sister.

 

Rey seriously contemplates having Chewbacca knock him out, truss him up, and deliver him to the Resistance anyways. It would take care of two out of her three problems: it would get Luke off the island and it would force him to face General Organa. It would probably ruin any chance of him agreeing to teach her, but she reasons that two out of three isn’t bad. She never asked to be a Jedi anyways.

 

Rey even goes so far as to suggest the hypothetical to Chewie, but he squashes her hope almost immediately. He is less certain of his own ability to outmaneuver the Jedi Master than she is, and points out that if they were to fail in such an attempt, it would almost certainly negate any possibility of Luke changing his mind of his own accord. Rey grudgingly bows to his superior knowledge of his friend.

 

Instead, she comes up with a new plan.

 

While Luke is off meditating, or viewing the scenery, or whatever it is he does to pass the time on this lonely island, Rey convinces Chewbacca to take the _Falcon_ and report back to the Resistance with their news while she stays behind and continues to try and persuade their stubborn Jedi friend to man up and rejoin the galaxy. Chewbacca grumbles at the idea of leaving without her, but Rey wheedles and cajoles and eventually he caves. He leaves her with a comm unit and strict instructions to check in regularly. She watches the freighter circles the island twice before zooming up and off, into the atmosphere. Rey has the bizarre feeling that she’s been adopted.

 

If Luke minds her presence, he doesn’t mention it. He doesn’t seem surprised to find her still on the island after Chewie’s departure, at any rate. He doesn’t ask what she hopes to accomplish (though that’s probably obvious) or try to dissuade her from her mission, either; he just offers her dinner and a place to sleep. Rey eats fish for the first time in her life.

 

Rey tries not to bother him too much, those first few days. Her plan hinges on him getting used to her just _being_ there. She doesn’t want to annoy him. She leaves him to his meditation and explores the island thoroughly on her own. It’s not large, but the geography is challenging enough to hold her interest. Once or twice, she attempts her own form of meditation at a distance, although she doesn’t really understand what she’s supposed to be doing other than breathing steadily with her eyes closed. She senses Luke’s vague amusement, but he doesn’t comment. He continues to share his meals with her, and makes polite conversation. He never shows any indication of it, but Rey thinks he must be lonely, too.

 

+

 

The thing about playing the waiting game with Luke is, it gives Rey plenty of time to think. About, well, _everything_. Her life on Jakku, already so distant in her memory; her new loyalty to the Resistance, when she’s never held allegiance to anything or anyone but herself; her friends, and what they might be doing whilst she’s here; and everything else.

 

Okay, okay – by ‘everything else’ she really means the worrisome connection she has with Kylo Ren.

 

Rey isn’t given to deluding herself. It’s not a sensible survival tactic, and she still thinks in terms of survival, even with the new promises of shelter and food and friendship that bafflingly seem to come with no restrictions or demands of repayment. If anything, Rey is prone to forthright honesty. What is, _is_. There’s little use denying it. It’s much more efficient and practical to accept the realities of life and move on, no matter how uncomfortable they be.

 

So, with time to spare, Rey falls to thinking about Kylo Ren an awful lot. She recalls their face-to-face interactions – Takodana, the interrogation chamber, the snowy forest – and their subsequent mental entanglements. He succeeded in pushing her out of his head, but she knows the connection has not been severed. Now that she’s intentionally sought out that thread of energy once, she’s cognizant of its constant presence in the back of her mind.

 

If there’s anyone she can ask about Force-related mind reading, it’s probably Luke Skywalker, but Rey doesn’t think that divulging this strange connection she has to his nephew (the very same nephew who destroyed his Jedi academy and turned to the Dark Side) is the best way to convince him to teach her. She decides to save this information as a last resort.

 

But the _thread._ She tries to ignore it, but it’s like ignoring a livewire. At least she manages to resist grabbing hold of it like the last time, but she can’t quite help herself from…nudging it.

 

Just a little! She just sort of brushes her consciousness against it from time to time. Just to make sure it’s still there. She ought to be on her guard, after all. If she can push herself into Kylo Ren’s mind from hundreds of lightyears away, he can surely do the same to her. He’s obviously got a lot more practice at mind-invasion that she does. And seeing as she has no idea how to rid herself of it, and no intentions of asking Luke, then she needs to know exactly what she’s dealing with. Preparedness is critical.

 

That’s what she keeps telling herself, but Rey knows it’s only half of it. She’s also…curious. This, thing, whatever it is, that’s between herself and Kylo Ren is unique. _They_ are unique. Aside from Luke, Kylo Ren is the only other person of Rey’s acquaintance who shares this difference, this ability to interact with the Force. She doesn’t regret rejecting his offer to teach her for one second, and would cut him down again without hesitation should he appear before her now, hand extended in the false friendship of darkness, but though she has no interest in learning _from_ him, it does not follow that she has no desire to learn _of_ him.

 

It’s exactly this kind of dangerous thinking, this excessive time spent mulling over the scant facts she has at her disposal, and filling in the blanks with increasingly preposterous imaginings, that leads Rey to her current predicament.

 

It’s nighttime on the island. She’s half-asleep, drifting lazily through her own jumbled thoughts, not stopping to observe any one topic in particular, just letting the day’s musings and observances float around her. As has become her habit over the past few days, she automatically searches for the spark of energy that signifies her connection to Kylo Ren. She finds it easily, glowing and alive in the sleepy back corners of her mind, and because she’s not really focusing on anything, she almost doesn’t notice when her consciousness slides into his.

 

Rey twists uncomfortably on her small sleeping pallet, trying to find a better position. Her ribs ache and her muscles are sore from over-exertion. The tender skin of her cheek brushes roughly against her pillow with every movement. Exhaustion weighs heavily on her limbs like a physical mass, pressing her down. Her eyes are shut, but still they burn with tiredness. 

 

_For fuck’s sake, I just need to **sleep**._

She hasn’t slept in two days. If only she can get some rest, she knows she will feel better. Her strength is waning, she is utterly exhausted, but every time she closes her eyes she sees her father’s face contorted in pain and surprise –

 

 _Oh,_ Rey thinks, _this isn’t me_.

 

Except – it feels like her? _She_ feels exhausted although she’s done nothing to exert herself in days, and _her_ still-healing injuries are keeping her awake and irritable, even though she’s in perfect physical health.

 

 _Kylo_ , she thinks drowsily, and the realization should make her withdraw, but she lingers. It’s oddly comforting, this proximity to someone else in the normally quiet recesses in her mind. Eyes still closed, she thinks she should either reach out or pull away, but although the phantom pain in her limbs is fading, the exhaustion remains, and Rey drifts off before she can reach a decision.

 

+

 

When she wakes up the next morning, there’s a single thought swimming around at the forefront of her mind:

 

_Stay out of my head, Scavenger._

 

+

 

After that, Rey is wary of sleep, but luckily, she has something new to occupy her thoughts. Judging that enough time has passed, Rey unclips the lightsaber from her belt. She moves to the opposite side of the island from where Luke is…doing whatever he’s doing, she’s honestly not sure at this point…and ignites the blade. Then she’s left standing dumbly for a moment, as the realization hits that she actually has _no idea_ what she’s supposed to do with it. She can fight, yes, even if she prefers the heft of her staff, but practice exercises? She supposes there are proper forms to follow, like with most fighting disciplines, but she has no clue what they are.

 

She begins slowly, feeling things out naturally and trying not to think too hard about what she’s doing. She probably looks a mad fool, dancing around and swiping at thin air, but she finds a rhythm eventually. Most of the moves she tries are bastardized versions of how she uses her staff, but of course, the grip and length are all wrong. She switches the lightsaber off and is, at once, relieved and bereft.

 

Tentatively, she extends her senses and locates Luke. No one has taught her how to do this, but she lets her instincts guide her. The island is tiny, and Luke is the only other greater life-form aside from herself, so it’s not difficult. He is a steady _thrum_ of power to her senses, quiet and controlled. He’s sitting exactly where she left him that morning. She thinks he might be napping.

 

Rey frowns down at the lightsaber. This is going to be more difficult than she first imagined.

 

+

 

“Jessika Pava says you’re the greatest starpilot in the galaxy,” Rey tells Luke that evening, apropos to nothing. They’ve finished their meal of fish and seaweed stew, and are sitting in companionable silence around a low fire.

 

Luke regards her mildly. “Who is Jessika Pava?”

 

“Blue Three.”

 

“Ah.”

 

“She helped destroy Starkiller Base.”

 

“I fear she may have exaggerated my abilities.”

 

“Did you really take down the Death Star flying blind?”

 

“…”

 

“Chewie told me you were all awarded medals. He showed me his on the _Falcon_. Do you still have yours?”

 

“…You know, I’m not sure.” Luke squints at her suspiciously. “Why?”

 

Rey shrugs. “Just curious. General Organa says they don’t do that anymore, but if they did, she’d give everyone a medal.” She frowns. “I don’t understand their purpose. Why does anyone need a piece of metal on a ribbon?”

 

“Leia always did enjoy a good awards ceremony,” Luke says, smiling fondly in spite of himself. He looks at Rey curiously.  “Do you always address her so formally?” And then, not really thinking, he adds, “You have no trouble calling me ‘Luke’.”

 

“What else would I call you?” she inquires innocently. “Master?”

 

Luke coughs and looks away.

 

“Everyone calls her ‘General’,” Rey rushes to explain before he can clam up again. _Keep him talking, Rey._  “Except See-Threepio. He calls her ‘Your Highness’ and ‘Princess’ and then she yells at him.”

 

At this, Luke looks at her again, and she’s pleased to see that the corners of his eyes are crinkled with amusement. _Perfect._ Persistence is one of Rey’s specialties, and to achieve her end goal, she has to keep Luke’s guard down.

 

“Wanna know a secret?” Rey asks, leaning in conspiratorially. “Beebee-Ate calls her ‘Princess-General-Leia-Highness’ but her Binary’s rusty, and Beebee-Ate’s hard to understand anyways when he gets excited, so she thinks he’s just got an accent.”

 

To Rey’s delight, Luke actually laughs. “Leia’s Binary has always been rusty,” he informs her, still chuckling. “But if you think that’s funny, you should have heard the things Han called her over the years.”

 

At the mention of Han’s name, they both fall silent.

 

“I’m sorry,” Rey tells him sadly after a long moment. “I – I know he was your friend, and it’s my fault he’s dead.”

 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Luke tells her kindly. “Han was reckless and headstrong, but he knew what he was getting into.”

 

“But if I hadn’t been captured, they wouldn’t have wasted time trying to rescue me,” Rey persists. “They might have gotten out sooner. Ky – ” She bites the name off quickly, and looks away. _Don’t talk about him_ , she berates herself. _You’re going to screw everything up._

 

The firm pressure of Luke’s hand on her shoulder makes her turn back.

 

“It was not your fault, Rey,” Luke says softly. “You cannot know that things would have turned out any differently had you not been there. In fact, they might have turned out much worse. Chewbacca told me that your friend Finn greatly embellished his knowledge of the planet’s defense systems in order to rescue you. If he hadn’t, the Resistance might not have gone through with their attack at all. Yes, Han might have survived, there is no way of knowing for certain, but how many more systems might have been destroyed by the First Order? Do not torment yourself with _what-ifs_.”

 

He releases her shoulder and climbs to his feet. “Don’t stay up too late,” he recommends. “It doesn’t do to dwell on the past.”

 

 _Luke Skywalker_ , Rey considers as she watches his retreating form in the low light, _is a man who could stand to take his own advice more often_.

 

_Skywalker is a fool._

 

The thought enters her mind so swiftly she almost mistakes it for her own. A now-familiar presence blooms in her mental peripheral.

 

 _Kylo?_ Rey sends back cautiously. He startles slightly, and begins to pull away. _He didn’t mean to project,_ Rey realizes, and without thinking, she reaches out blindly for his presence before it fades entirely. _Wait!_

She feels him hesitate. Bolstered by her earlier success with Luke, Rey pushes another thought at him.

 

 _Don’t go_ , she says. _Please, I want to talk._

 

_I have nothing to say to you._

 

It might be the strangest and most natural sensation Rey has ever felt in her life, talking to Kylo like this. They are not so tightly entangled as when she pushed into his mind on the _Millenium Falcon_ , but she can hear him as plainly as if they are sitting side by side. She holds herself very still, as though her physical restraint will help keep herself from diving headlong into his mind. She very carefully does not push. The only thoughts she can hear are those he chooses to project.

 

 _Aren’t you curious?_ she asks finally.

 

_No._

 

_Then why were you listening to my conversation with Luke?_

 

It’s a fearful thought, that he can eavesdrop on her whenever he likes. Can she do the same to him?

 

_I wasn’t listening!_

 

Rey sends wordless _disbelief_ back at him.

 

 _You would have felt it if I was,_ he insists. His irritation at her accusation is enough to keep him engaged. _Your mental shields are…formidable._

 

That surprises Rey. _Shields?_

 

 _You really have no idea how naturally gifted you are,_ Kylo replies, and she can _feel_ him sigh. He’s in a blasé mood, a distinct change from the tempestuous energy she’s accustomed to from him. He’s not relaxed, exactly, but he feels…bored. Or possibly depressed.

 

 _I’m not_ depressed, Kylo disagrees, some of the heated spark returning. _You_ called _to me, that’s why I was able to hear that inane load of Bantha fodder Skywalker just fed you. He lied to you, Rey. It_ is _your fault. If you had just cooperated with me, things could have been different. So much wasted life…_

 

Ire peaked, Rey gives him a mental shove. It’s not quite as satisfying as punching him in the face, but the surprise that echoes back at her across their connection is better than nothing. She thinks he may even stumble. She smiles, sure she’s gotten the better of him again. But then he _laughs_.

 

 _We could have been spectacular together_ , he muses. Something about the way he says it makes Rey feel hot and cold at the same time. She shivers. But she’s determined to get the last word in.

 

 _Yes_ , she agrees unexpectedly, and relishes in the shock she feels from him. _Too bad you’re determined to be a psychopath._

 

His rage is back and Rey feels like she’s finally found firm ground to stand on. She can deal with Kylo’s anger. His tantrums render him childish and unstable. Now that she’s fought him once, she’s not afraid to do it again. She fears him most when he’s calm, because there is something in his attempted manipulations that rings eerily true. She doesn’t want to think about what that means.

 

 _Have you always been this emotional?_ Rey presses, desperate to keep the upper hand. _I’ll ask Luke tomorrow, but I’m guessing that’s why you couldn’t cut it as a Jedi._

 

Pure, unadulterated fury crashes over her. Rey basks in it for a split second before she wrenches her consciousness away from him. It’s disorienting, to be so suddenly alone in her head again, but even as her heart thunders in her chest, Rey finds herself grinning as she stares into the dying embers of the fire. _T_ _oo easy._

 

Luke’s whole family is as difficult as he is, but Rey’ll be damned if she backs down without a fight.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rey's a little meaner than I thought she'd be at the end there. Oh well. 
> 
> While you're waiting on the next chapter, ponder this: Are there any particular interactions you'd like to see between Rey and Kylo _before_ they meet again in person? (Which I promise they will. Eventually.)


End file.
